Tales out of school

by Frank R. Stockton

This delusion lasted but a moment, however, for he soon felt himself sinking again into the cold water. But he was able now to make an effort to save himself, and he grasped tightly the long reed stems that lay near him. This prevented his sinking far into the water, and the Nix left her harp, and gliding swiftly into the river, supported Carl so that his head and arms were out of the water, and he could make some attempt to swim. And, in this way, the Nix helped him to the bank.

He was so weak from fright, and the long time he had been in the water, that he could not even speak to the Nix to thank her for saving his life. He could only look his gratitude as he lay panting on the grass. But as soon as he revived a little and had uttered the first word to the lady she faded from his sight, and he only saw a wreath of white mist gliding over the reeds.

Carl sprang up in astonishment. The waves parted as if some one had gently sunk into them, and he thought that he saw, for a moment a gleam of bright hair. Not till then did he know that the beautiful lady, who had preserved him, was a Nix.

Close to his side stood her harp. The Nix had forgotten it! Here was a prize! There was gold enough in it for a moderate fortune, and Carl was poor. Carl had always had a great desire to be a musician, and this gold would send him to Berlin or Vienna to study at a Conservatory of Music; and do a great deal besides for his father, and mother, and sisters. But the boy was honest, and he knew he had no right to take away the property of another, even if the owner was only a Nix. But he thought he might be allowed to play upon it. He had learned to play two or three tunes on the harp. No sooner did he touch the strings, however, than he found he did not play his own music at all, but the magical music the Nix played. Carl was in ecstacies, and his fingers flew over the strings, wandering through one fairy melody after another until his arm ached, and he saw that the sun had set, and twilight was coming on.

He must go home. But now he felt a stronger desire than ever to take the harp with him. How he would astonish all the town with his music! He would give concerts in the great hall, and, perhaps, the fame of his wonderful music would reach the king and queen, and they would come to hear him. But all this did not make it right for him to take what was not his own; and it would be a poor return to make the Nix for her kindness to steal her harp.

But, perhaps she left it there, intending he should have it! How was he to know? He called to her to tell him if the harp was his, but there was no reply.

He resolved he would leave it where it stood, but would return to the spot the next day. If the harp was still there he might fairly conclude that the Nix intended he should have it.

He left the harp reluctantly, and started on his homeward journey, but had not gone far before he had to lie down and rest. His head ached, and all his limbs felt tired and sore. It is probable he would have been obliged to spend the night in the forest, if some marketmen had not come along the road, and taken him home in their wagon.

He related his adventures to the family, and the next day his father accompanied him to the old tower. Everything was exactly as Carl had described it. The place whence the stone had fallen out of the wall was plainly to be seen, with the freshly loosened mortar strewn about. But there was no golden harp. And there was neither sight nor sound of Nix or Fairy Music.